I have thought long and hard on how to start the blog series for A Mindful Walk. Topics have come and they have gone. Graciously, friends and colleagues have weighed in giving their insight and suggestions. Many blogs have started, many have ended. However, it is while sitting in meditation, in prayer, that the same story, the same chapter of life comes up; when an end became another beginning.
A Polar Reflection
Humility. Fragility. Vulnerability. It is the world we live in and one that can be all consuming. We can free fall into darkness of the rabbit hole faster than Superman can leap in a single bound. And yet it is through these tumbles that we find who we are. What we are made of. What makes us tick. And who we truly want to be. We say that golf is the best teacher in life, to which there is a bias of agreement, but there is also the inclusion of Mother Nature and her willingness to grasp our attention every day, to show us what is truly real and what is made solely of man. There is dualism in life and it is up to us to choose the side with which we wish to live.
A Mindful Walk has been in the back of my mind for many years, but jobs, responsibilities, obligations…life…kept me moving at a hare’s pace. Feelings of not having enough to share, enough knowledge, enough to give, would hinder my ability to move forward. Lack of confidence and self esteem enveloped my inner being. Feeling like I didn’t fit in, or wasn’t part of the “club” just continued the wedge between me and true freedom. It wasn’t until the end of life for my best friend, and one of the greatest teachers in my life, that the beginning became a speckle of light.
After my beautiful Aspen passed, I received a few emails about a trip to the Arctic. It had been a dream of deep magnitude for as long as I could remember. To see the polar bear in their wildest of habitats, to witness the survival of life in the most remote and harsh environments on Earth, to ultimately find something that would take me to the truest north, my true north. It would be on this trip, in a cumulative of moments, that the heaviness carried for so long, would start to lessen, and a truth start to surface. It would be in the Arctic that not only my life would take a turn but it would be the future entrance of another little professor.
Aspen
Upon making it across “the pond” and into Oslo, I rented a car and drove south to Skjeberg. About 1 hour and 20 minutes through cities, countryside and a multitude of tunnels, I arrived with a camera around my neck. a heart full of memories, and a desire to retrace steps gone by. You see, over 35 years ago I taught golf at Skjeberg Golf Klubb, during my off weeks of playing the European Tour. It was a time filled with moments amidst the fjords, warm hearted laughter with new friends and sharing the gift of golf to anyone who wanted to learn.
When I entered the pro shop to ask permission to walk the course, it was a female professional that assisted me, asking if I knew the way to the first tee. Immediately saying yes, and Takk (thank you in Norwegian), I started on my journey (see Skjeberg Golf Klubb course review). Hues of deep green, reds, yellows, orange, blue knitted a fabric throughout the course. Energy of the past tingled through my feet revealing glimpses of time, only to be brought right back to the present. Hills, valleys, twists and turns, paths though the forest, views to the lake, it was certainly a good walk unspoiled! Upon finishing, I returned only to find that the same lady was at the counter, this time she had a publication in her hand. Recognizing immediately with floods of mental imagery, we both realized that I had been a golf instructor of hers during that beautiful summer so many years ago. This would be the first of many “God winks” that would arrive over the next few weeks.
Skjeberg Golf Klubb on a late spring day...
Leaving Oslo en route to Longyearbyen (Svalbard), the second blessing happened, this time in the form of a soul that touched my life in a way he may never know. We sat in row 15, he in A and me in F, both window seats, both of us traveling alone. It was one of those serendipitous moments when two people meet having an unspoken knowledge of the other and though our time was meant for only a season, I will forever be grateful for his presence, friendship and spiritual guidance. He opened my heart with the beauty of word, listening, and being. Today I think of him with such gratitude and respect as he planted several seeds, many of which are just starting to bear fruit.
Longyearbyen lies at 78 degrees North, on the island of Spitsbergen (“pointed mountains in Dutch), and is the administrative center or “city” of Svalbard (“the land with the cold shores”). It is accessible by a three-hour flight from Oslo ( SAS and Norwegian airlines), a 90-minute from Tromsø and for 2024, a possible new non-stop from Frankfurt. Longyearbyen lies in the valley of Adventfjord surrounded by the most beautiful snow packed peaks and a variety of glaciers. It is home to the Global Seed Bank and one of Norway’s best restaurants (Huset). There are beautiful hotels (Radisson Blu Polar Hotel Spitsbergen, Polar Hotell Polfareren, The Vault, Funken Lodge, Basecamp), galleries, pubs and eating establishments (Gruvelageret, Restaurant Polfareren, Vinterhagen) museums and my very favorite…Huskies Cafe, one the best coffee shops in the world. Longyearbyen is the gateway to the Norwegian Wild Arctic and adventures that will touch your soul like no other.
Longyearbyen in May
The Norwegian Arctic is home to vast wildlife; polar bears, walrus, seal, fox, caribou/reindeer and more birds than you have ever seen (and smelled!). Due to 24-hours of daylight, the best time to enjoy the sights is May - September. However, the locals will tell you that the four months of winter darkness is a very special time of the year. With the Northern Lights dancing in the polar skies, the sun remains below the horizon for a solid two and a half months. There is no distinction of day or night (called the "blue hour"), but the sun does send out rays from the horizon creating blue and red light. Nature’s ever changing Picasso.
Our journey with Quark Expeditions set off into the grayness of the Arctic skies, deep into the blackened ocean, amidst the wonder that was all around. Due to Covid, restrictions were in place around the newly christened Ultramarine. After being escorted to our cabins we quickly were ushered into the Ambassador Theater for a review on health protocols, ship safety, and dining assignments. Whether you were single, as I was, or in a group, you were to pick a table and keep that table for the duration of the trip. And that I did; a back table for four (the lowest denomination), port side of the boat and next to a wall to wall window. My first dinner was alone, no phone (cell service was minimal), but a journal and camera.
The Ultramarine
It only took a day before the “rules” went into the chilly Arctic winds and people traveling alone found one another. With a case of Covid already on board, wrong or indifferent, the consensus was to move about the cabin and enjoy the trip by meeting like-minded souls from all parts of the world. My “tribe” came in a brilliant and sarcastically hysterical woman from England, a quirky and introverted, yet one of the kindest human beings on the planet adventure seeker from Canada, and my soul friend and carpe diem, fun-loving, Batik wearing man from the Philippines. It would be 15 days of spirit embracing laughter and tears.
Our expedition took us through Isfjorden, Ekmanfjorden, Yoldiabukta, Linnédalen, Fjortende Julibukta, Lilliiehǒǒkfjorden, Smeerenburg, Sea Ice, Banquise, Sarstangen, Fuglehuken, Konsfjorden, Van Mijenfjord, Camp Morton, Midterhuken, Isbjørnhamna, Gnǎlodden, Camp Milar, Bamsebu and Bellsund. A ship too large for entry into some of the bays, and in preservation of the natural surrounding, the Ultramarine would anchor a distance away from land. We had been assigned groups (I was Walrus) for zodiac excursions. When your group was called, you made way to the "ready room." Your boots and life vests, jackets and poles were in a locker ready for use. Once ready, it was time for scanning out and entry into the rubber boat. A quick zip through the icy waters, holding on for dear life, and shore was made.
Kayaking in twos
Quark organized a number outings for hiking/trekking, exploring and adventure. There were various levels with which to choose. You could stay by water's edge, cop a squat on a rock, and just soak in the fresh Arctic air. Cuddle into a kayak and maneuver around a frozen maze. Or you could fill your pack, grab the poles and set off up into the mountains. Rifle wearing guides lead the way into the immenseness of snow through valleys and next to aged old ice. Those of us who braved the elements and shored the adventure came feet away from Comet, Cupid, Donner and Blitzen. We walked along the rim of glaciers and grazed the waters of a high mountain lake. It was a fairy tale coming to life, every minute of every day.
Comet, Cupid, Donner, Blitzen...in the Arctic Wilderness
Kayaking trips led to paddling with seals, their cute little heads popping up and then diving back down only to pop up 10 feet away. They were so playful and light, almost like you had been friends for eons, and maybe we had. Sharing the waters with”them opens your mind and heart to a the spiritual connectedness of all living beings. Walrus would lazily splay about, sometimes one on top of the other, until one just got hop-skipping mad turning on his rock mate. Fights would breach, fins would swing, tusks would bore, and then… total stillness.
I See You
Atlantic puffins, black-legged kittiwakes, guillemots, Arctic terns, purple sandpipers swooned, swooped and cooed as they either landed on water or in the crags of the nearby cliff. There are hundreds of thousands of birds, if not millions, during the days of the Arctic summer. Each with a different flight pattern, each with a different calling.
Puffin
Food on the Ultramarine was outstanding. Breakfast and lunch were served buffet style with plenty of diet restricted options. Dinner was sit-down with a different menu every night. And for those of us fussy spirits, that would be me, chef catered and crafted the most delectable vegan meals I have ever had. Wine poured, desserts devoured and talk of the days permeated the rooms. To become lost in time, to let your mind unwind and empty of all worry and doubt, what a gift of Sattva, the illuminating of goodness, purity, balance, peacefulness, positivity, truth.
Lectures from geologists, botanists, glacierologists, biologists, ornithologist, adventurers and more offered their knowledge, insights, humor and experience. Slide shows and videos, music and readings, learning was just as much part of the trip as traipsing through the untouched land. Recognition of respect to the world in which we inhabit was always at the forefront of the talks. Walking out of the Ambassador Theater every evening you felt like there were a few more brain cells holding you up.
Evening Nightcaps
The guides would stay on watch 24 hours a day knowing that the reason for many travelers was to see this majestic animal in his and her natural surroundings. So it was, early one morning that our first glimpse of a mama and her two cubs. For hours we watched as she was hunkered deep with the snow, her babies nestled into her. Finally, upon rising and stretching, mama showed us her slightly emaciated body, probably not long after coming out of hibernation and her delivery. It was heart-breaking at first, to see the impacts of climate change first hand. The lack of food and the miles she has to move to find it; a great cost for her. But as all mother’s, feeding her children was essential so movement from place to place, imminent. Watching them move from slumber across the mountain side, finagling steep and slippery rock, we experienced how harsh this world can be. Witnessed rarely, except on National Geographic, we saw the fear and heard the sounds of sheer terror from the mother and little one as he/she was trying to get across the shimmering shale to safety of mama’s grasp. A few guests were demanding a zodiac approach, a chance to get closer to the bear, even though that could cause extreme agitation, confusion and possible demise of the little one. It was an abhorrent, selfish and disappointing moment of human nature. Thankfully, but not without bereavement, the Expedition Leader called it off allowing the family von Polar to join together (baby finally descended safely to mama). They would trudge across the tundra making their way up the slope and to the other side where no ship or people were present. Mama had been tagged #33, which means they had been following her, perhaps because of her starvation, perhaps for another reason. I choose to believe that the family is alive and well, thriving in the Arctic wilderness.
Mama and her Cubs
It would be a couple of days later, after we had crossed our furtherest northern exposure, that polar bear number four would arrive. This time, it would be a healthy male. Big, grand and on the hunt. We watched again for hours as he was off in the distance, playfully sliding down hills only to run back up and do it again. Around 3am he disappeared over the bank for a quick little slumber. Me, being the only one up at that point except for the guides, was encouraged to go get some sleep; that would call me when PB#4 would awaken. It was about 1.5 hours later when that call came. Lunging out of bed, still fully clothed, I made it out to the bow and a perfect place to watch again, God’s beautiful life. Tears of joy this time, gratitude beyond words, as we shared our journey alongside this being for 3-4 hours. By then most of the ship knew of my dream and the reason I was on board. One by one, people looked at me and with a smile and said, “Aspen.”
On the Hunt
How I could go on and on about the time spent those two weeks; the sightings, the wonder. From jumping into the coldest water, trusting in all that is, to walking where few people had walked before, it was a voyage that will live in me forever. It is a period of time that I can now look back and say “the end was another beginning.”
Blue Ice Amidst the Arctic Sea
As we came back to Longyearbyen, I rose after only about 2-3 of sleep, walked out onto the bow and allowed tears to stream down my face. Not only because the trip was coming to a close, but that a calling that felt so strong had yet to be met. The night before Aspen passed, a very untuned friend told me that Aspen wanted us to “make a deal” a “knowing” between us for her to return. To some this may sound a bit far fetched, but I can assure you it is true. Our “deal” was that I would take the first step and call her name into the mountains and into the sea, opening the energy for one that only she could send, that would be part of her. As I was standing there, it dawned on me that there were the mountains, and I was on the sea. So call I did. It was a moment of feeling her little paws, her breath, her heart. She was there with me, she had been the whole time. And then as clear as day, the name Nanook entered my soul, settling into me like home. Having no idea the meaning or where it came from, I went back inside, started packing and then just sat on my bed with spirit filled with tranquility and peace. What the heck?
To the Mountains to the Sea
Upon disembarking from the ship, with a few hours around town, our group walked over to the Huskies Cafe. Customary in all restaurants and hotels, you take off your shoes before entering. My friends decided to continue on down the road while I went shoeless around the cafe. And there she was, a beautiful white husky. She had been retired from “polar sledding” and now living her next best life, as were a few more that were slumbering amidst the coffee drinking humans. Looking into her tired but fully alive eyes was a source of tranquility and of utter joy. I looked up and asked the person at the counter if she knew what the name Nanook meant. With a quizzical look, she said “polar bear.” With tears welling up yet again, I just looked at the little prophet and said “of course.”
Nanook (aka Professor Pickle)
So here we are, today. It has been two years since Aspen’s passing, her gift of the Arctic, and the resurrection of our deal. And it is almost 1.5 years since Nanook came into my world full of fight, full of survival, full of life. The newness of her soul (she can be a pickle!) Is quickly shaping both of our lives with new lessons and new adventure (she is the professor). With all hope and wonder in front of us, thank you for reading the very first AMW Blog. My hope is that through our journeys, stories, reviews, transcripts, videos, we can open and explore the golfing world, and the world of love, together. May you take A Mindful Walk with a heart clear and a spirit that soars!
At the Edge of Time
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